Beyond the Hood
by Cat Seeker
Summary: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Sirius Black did not survive the 3rd year Dementor attack. But instead of being transformed into unfeeling vegetables, they are transported to a different time - when Tom Riddle attended Hogwarts. Can the 2 parts of the Golden Trio and a large Grim dog stop Tom from becoming the dark wizard Voldemort? Read to find out...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my own ideas. I own no characters of this franchise nor am I a famous author.**

-Courtesy of CeliaEquus. I hope she doesn't mind me using her example disclaimer. If I missed something here, please tell me! :)

Well, all I can say is please, please, please, Read and Review!

~Cat Seeker~

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**Chapter 1**

Somewhere on the grounds of Hogwarts, Harry Potter was fighting a mob of Dementors. Or, at least, attempting to.

Hermione and Sirius had slipped into unconsciousness some time ago – but Harry didn't know how long. It felt like an eternity to him when it was probably just a couple of seconds. Every moment was long and drawn out as the black hooded cloaks gathered around him in a loose circle.

"Expecto Patronum!" he cried desperately, forcing more raw magic into the spell. His happy memories were running out, but he had to try. For Ron _his best friend_, for Hermione _who was the sweetest girl he had ever met_, for Sirius _who would have, could have been the man he grew up with – his godfather, yet not his godfather_.

The creatures he was frantically fending off seemed to laugh at him, grotesque grins stretching exposed gray skin. The lead Dementor – he thought hysterically – drew in another hoarse, rattling breath...

_(so cold, so dark, whenisitgoingtostop?)_

"Expecto Patronum!" he yelled again, but his voice was weaker.

_Ron and Hermione were smiling at him – something that didn't happen often. This year, Ron had been fueling arguments about Hermione's new cat, Crookshanks, eating Percy's old rat, Scabbers. But the laughing faces were fading fast. He needed another memory..._

_(fishing for something brighter to delay, to repel the soul-suckers)_

_Draco Malfoy was holding Neville's rememberall up towards the sky. And Harry mounted his broomstick, feeling a jolt of euphoria that nothing else – even escaping the Dursleys – could ever bring him. _I love flying more than anything else. I'm finally free, just an extension of the air...

The nearest Dementors recoiled out of shock more than anything else, but other, more daring ones, behind them glided up to take the retreaters' places. _This is it, _Harry thought, and he was frightened by the acceptance and understanding that accompanied the belief. _Well, I've escaped from Voldemort more than once; it's only fitting that I meet my brain death at a dark creature. Though I suppose my passing away will be ironic. I wonder if Voldemort will be angry. From what I had derived from the times I met him, he always wanted my life for only him to take. I can just imagine the headlines – "Chosen One in Vegetable State! Confined in St. Mungo's Until Further Accommodations Determined!"_

A Dementor – braver than others, it seemed – extended a rotting, claw-like hand to brush away Harry's globular, misty patronus. Harry sighed, breath exhaling in a puff of cloudy air. He would never know, or care, what his patronus would take the shape of, from now on. The Dementor lowered its hood...

_"No, not Harry! Please not Harry! Not him... I'll do anything! Please!"_

_"Move aside, silly girl, move aside."_

_"No, please..."_

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Harry, be safe, be strong."_

_"Yeh see, there was a wizard, Harry, who wen' dark."_

_"What's his name, Hagrid?"_

_"I'll write it, yeh have 'ny papeh? Fine, I'll say it. Lord Voldemort. Now, don't yeh ask meh to say it 'gain."_

_"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!"_

_"Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter."_

_"How is it that a boy of mediocre magical talent can defeat the great Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin?"_

_"You're a freak, Harry! A freak, you hear it? People don't just appear on the school roof... you're such a creep."_

_"He can speak to snakes, Susan, stay away from him. He's probably that heir who's been opening the Chamber of Secrets."_

_"POTTER! What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"_

_"I don't know, sir."_

_"Tut, tut, Potter. Clearly, fame isn't everything."_

Harry closed his eyes as the malformed, stitched-together mouth grew closer and closer. He could feel himself grow lighter, as though he was floating away. With the last vestiges of his strength, he drew Hermione's and Sirius's frozen bodies closer to his own. Tears blurred the inside of his cracked glasses and then, there was only oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When Harry awoke, he could feel a certain warmth on his face and a reddish glow on the inside of his eyelids. His first thought was that Ron had cast the Lumos Charm and was now playfully waving his willow and unicorn hair wand in front of his face. Then, a wave of potent sorrow washed over him, and with it, pinpricks of guilt and remorse. There was no Ron, because hopefully Ron was not dead, or precariously edging the ravine between life and death - like he was.

(_Wait! I'm thinking! Yesyesyesyes! But why didn't the Dementor sever my soul from my body, like it did to so many of its other victims? I wonder what Hermione would say right now..._)

Harry pushed the involuntary thought about Hermione away, too. It was extremely painful to think about friends whom he may never see again. Half-fearful in anticipation, he tensed muscles that he wasn't even completely positive existed, and cracked open his eyes. He was in a long, familiar-looking corridor with large, familiar-looking stone walls. It took a moment before he finally realized exactly where he was.

(_Hogwarts! But how did we get here?_)

A groan from the side alerted him to the fact that he was not alone in the hallway. In a fraction of a second, Harry slid his holly-and-phoenix-feather wand out of his right sleeve, caught it deftly, and spun around to face the potential attacker. A pair of glazed silver-gray eyes met his perusal.

"Hey, kid," Sirius Black said, glancing warily at the wand Harry held in his hand, "I know I'm wanted by the Ministry, but I didn't know you didn't believe my story in the Shrieking Shack." He gave Harry a meaningful look at the last part, and the boy slowly lowered his only weapon.

"Sirius," Harry replied distractedly, and swayed as though dazed. "Last time I saw you, you were lying on the ground near the lake, having all your happy memories sucked out by a horde of Dementors." A glimpse of what resembled accusation flitted across his facial features.

"Er, yes, about that," Sirius muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I know I should have protected you better, Harry. But I was already weakened from my _wonderful_ tenure in Azkaban - "

"Don't make excuses," Harry glared back. "You were a fully-qualified Auror before your arrest. If a trained, seasoned, experienced Auror didn't know the Patronus Charm, how can you expect me - a 13 year old - to do it for you? And don't try to guilt-trip me for this. _I_ was the one who actually tried, unlike you," he spat viciously.

A cool, small hand settled on Harry's shoulder and he jumped up into the air, startled. His head swung around, and emerald green eyes locked with welcoming, knowledgeable hazel.

"I apologize for frightening you, Harry," Hermione Granger spoke, her tone slightly dreamy and admiring as though she had just discovered a new book. "Hello, Mr. Black," she greeted formally, her voice clearing suddenly.

"How are we here?" Harry questioned. "At Hogwarts, I mean," he amended quickly.

"You're asking the wrong question," Hermione countered smugly, lips curled upwards in an infuriating smirk. "If you ask the wrong question, you shall also receive the wrong answer."

"Well, then what should we be asking?" Sirius interjected indignantly.

"How about," Hermione paused teasingly, "you ask _when_ are we here."

"That was just what I -," Harry trailed off as the exact meaning of Hermione's statement caught up with his sluggish brain. "You mean, we're in a different time?" That concept was too difficult for him to wrap his head around. Just the thought of going backwards or forwards, messing with what was not meant to be messed with, made him nauseous. "What if we change something by accident?"

"Prongslet brings up a valid point," Sirius affirmed, expression oscillating swiftly from furious to concerned. "If we're in the future, meeting our future selves could be suicidal, not to mention - "

"Don't assume," Hermione interrupted again, "that we're in the future." As she talked, she whipped out a packet of papers that soon focused into Harry's eyes as a newspaper.

_The Daily Prophet_

_Volume 13, Issue 45_

_Date: September 2nd, 1939_

Harry gasped despite himself. He had never known that people could be thrown this far behind in time.

(_I mean, sure, maybe a few hours - wizards can probably do that - it's well within their capabilities. But then again, why - how - are we here? Time travel of this magnitude must be possible then._)

Next to him, Sirius was making choking noises and staring at the newspaper as though he couldn't believe his eyes.

"What's wrong, Sirius?" Harry asked, trying to convey with his eyes to let go of their previous disagreement, more like argument. Luckily, Sirius seemed to exhibit an uncommon tactfulness and 'let bygones by bygones.'

"My parents have been born yet, dammit," Sirius whispered, eyes boring holes into the date on the newspaper. For a fleeting moment, Harry was afraid that the packet would catch fire and destroy a piece of precious evidence. "Yes! My parents don't even exist yet! They aren't even a figment in my grandparents' imaginations!" Sirius's voice rose in pitch through his euphoric rant, and he forgot to consider that other children would be in Hogwarts at the moment. Hermione hissed out a "Silencio!" before proceeding to silently berate Sirius for his thoughtlessness that might have exposed the rest of them.

Through the entire course of events, neither Hermione, Harry, nor Sirius had factored in the unpredictable poltergeist - Peeves.

"Ickle children be out of the classroom in the morning...," Peeves mused. "Peevsies be thinkin' tha' Peevsies should be alertin' the Headmaster." A malicious expression contorted the ghost's face as he floated towards the trio, carrying a casket of dungbombs. Then, Hermione made a mistake that she would regret till the end of her days.

"Peeves, go away!" she snapped loudly, nerves worn thin by the unusual situation that she, Harry, and Sirius had found themselves in.

"Oooh," Peeves snickered, face morphing into a deceptively regretful mask. "Then, Peevsies should be tellin' the Headmaster what Peevsies found in Hogwarts's Transfiguration Corridor. HEADMASTER! HEADMASTER, STUDENTS OUT OF CLASS DOWN THE TRANSFIGURATION CORRIDOR!"

Sirius slapped his head with one hand in exasperation. "Jeez, Hermione, do you really have to be so uptight? Now we're in trouble!" That was... apparently, the wrong thing to say. Hermione began shrieking like a demented, possessed banshee to rival Peeves's high-pitched voice. Sirius merely cowered in the corner as a petite, vengeful bookworm loomed over him. With this ruckus, Harry knew he should have expected someone to find them. But a jolt of surprise circled in his veins as he heard the distinct click-clacking of stiletto shoes on the ground and beheld the younger version of Albus Dumbledore, accompanied by a female professor.

However, there was one prime difference between this Dumbledore and the doddering, amusing old Headmaster of the future. This man's eyes were definitely colder and spiked with a hungry curiosity that Harry could only liken to that of a young Tom Riddle's.

"Excuse me, young lady, young men, but may I ask what you think you are doing here?" Dumbledore inquired politely but with a uniquely demanding, authoritative edge to his tone. Harry very nearly smiled and introduced himself before catching himself. He couldn't change the past. And that was about the time that he realized that he had no fake sob story to feed the suspicious residents of Hogwarts.

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Please R&R!

~Cat Seeker~

P.S. I don't mind constructive criticism.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Who are you?" Dumbledore's voice was distinctly unfriendly and any initial warmth in his eyes seemed to be disappearing as the seconds passed. No doubt he was wondering how a group of muddy children and their guardian(?) had bypassed the famous, illustrious Hogwarts wards.

"I'm Harry... Peterson," Harry said hesitantly, hoping that the professors wouldn't see through the lie.

"And why are you here, Mr. Peterson?" the other woman asked, pooling black eyes searing into Harry. Harry stiffened, as with the arrival of Dumbledore, he had forgotten about his female companion.

Harry glanced at Hermione and Sirius for help at this stage; he felt he wasn't clever enough to provide a concrete, solid lie. Luckily, Hermione had stopped screeching at Sirius and was now regarding Dumbledore with an expression of utmost wonder. Realizing that she wouldn't be of any aid, Sirius stepped in.

"Er, I'm Acrux Peterson," Sirius chirped and bowed extravagantly to the two professors. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dumbledore, and Ms. - "

"Ms. Prince," the lady snipped, displeasure evident on her pretty features. "I am the Arithmancy professor at Hogwarts. I presume you do know you are at Hogwarts..."

"Of course we do!" Sirius burst out excitedly. "My kids are home-schooled, you see, and I was planning to bring them along next year. But today, we were conducting a bit of an... experiment at home, and we all got thrown here," he finished with a grand gesticulation.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling again, and Harry took that as a good sign. He must not think that they were a threat to the castle. But something was different in the eyes of the man who would become the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, and Harry didn't like it. Then, he noticed that the man's mouth was moving.

"And who is the dear girl over there?" he questioned, pointing in the vague direction of Hermione. In Harry's disorientation, he started...

"That's 'Mio - "

"I'm Mimosa Grant," Hermione invented on the spot, shooting a dirty look at Harry. "Harry's one of my best friends, so he calls me 'Mione.'"

Ms. Prince still seemed suspicious of the trio, but Dumbledore looked as though he believed them wholeheartedly. His piercing blue eyes swept over them and a grandfatherly smile settle on his not-so-wizened face.

"I still think we should dose them with Veritaserum to find out if they're not really Germans in disguise," Ms. Prince asserted, surveying the trio with beady eyes.

Dumbledore nodded at that, before glancing swiftly at Sirius.

"Mr. Peterson, if you would give us leave to administer the Truth Potion." Sirius opened his mouth to deny but then closed it. He was hemmed in. If he said no, mistrust would only heighten. With a rueful look, he agreed, mouthing "I'm sorry" as the trio ascended the stairs to the Headmaster's office.

Harry knew he should have expected it, what with all the surprises of the day, but he couldn't help starting when he noticed an old, wizened man sitting behind the Headmaster's desk.

"I am Headmaster Dippet," he said in a weak, cracking voice. "Fawkes, my phoenix, alerted me to a breach in the castle wards long before Peeves began screaming. It is wonderful to meet you, Mimosa Grant, Acrux Peterson, and Harry Peterson."

Ms. Prince went straight to business, explaining the situation and how she hoped to rectify it. Harry felt Dumbledore's insisting gaze on his back, but it hurt to stare at a younger version of the Headmaster when he would possibly never see the older counterpart again.

"So we are administering Veritaserum to discover if these intruders are trustworthy," she finished, sending a sneer in Sirius's direction. Clearly, she hadn't been impressed by the thinly fabricated lie that the time travelers had stated.

"That seems reasonable," Dippet replied. Hermione was looking at the man through narrowed eyes and her lips thinned. So, at the time they had landed up in, it wasn't illegal to administer Veritaserum to minors. That made her think of many words, none of them savory, and had been learned from the dormitory in the future Hogwarts.

When three drops each were placed on Harry's tongue, he didn't feel anything - strangely enough. There was no compulsion to say the truth, and that confused him. Then, a voice echoed through his head...

(_Say something that makes them think that you are telling the truth. You must be convincing._)

Harry frowned. He wondered if this was happening to Hermione, too, but when he glanced at the other girl, he could only see a stoic face and blank eyes. Was she dosed with real Veritaserum?

(_NOW! SAY SOMETHING; ANYTHING! sayitsayitsayitsayit_)

"You're really beautiful, Ms. Prince," Harry settled on. To his surprise, the woman actually blushed before the pinkness faded from her sallow cheeks again.

"What is your name?" she asked, eyes sharpening like those of a hawk's.

"Harry Peterson," Harry said, trying to keep his voice at a monotone.

"Mimosa Grant," Hermione said, and she inclined her head fractionally as an answer to Harry's unasked question.

"Do you mean any harm to Hogwarts, its students, or its teachers?" Dumbledore asked from where he was comfortably reclining on a conjured armchair.

"No, we don't, Professor," Harry said, trying even harder to control his surprise at being able to perpetuate his lie.

"We do not," Hermione confirmed, before saying, "I think you should administer the antidote, now, if you please."

Sirius was wide-eyed from the corner of the office. Ms. Prince looked as though she had swallowed something particularly nasty, but reluctantly obeyed Hermione's words.

"Well, now that you're here," Dumbledore said, jovially, "don't you want to stay?"

"What are you talking about...," Harry asked warily, "...Professor?" It would be hard to get used to Dumbledore's new (actually old) title.

"We are only one day into our newest school year, and you can still be enrolled into Hogwarts during its first three weeks. So, you can - as you see - be permitted to live, learn, and make friends here. It will be more interactive than being home-schooled."

Sirius looked apologetic before he finally agreed.

"Then, let us get you Sorted into your rightful houses," Dippet interrupted, taking control of the conversation again.

As Sirius breezed past the now new students of Hogwarts, he whispered, "I'm sorry Harry... Mimosa, but I need more time to get a job and earn some money before I can get a new house. At this rate, we'll all be homeless. Also, I can't access the Black Family Gringotts account because my _lovely_ ancestors are _fortunately_ alive."

Harry and Hermione only nodded and dread filled the pit of Harry's stomach. Then, the trio-turned-duo slowly followed the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, and the sour Professor Prince to the Great Hall.

(_Great. This is exactly what I need. In the future, I was - will be - famous for flying Mr. Weasley's car into the Whomping Willow, and now I'll be famous for being one of the only transfer students in Hogwarts's history. Is there any year that I won't start with a bang?_)

Then, he closed his eyes and walked out of the wooden door that cast a golden glow onto the stone floor outside the Great Hall. Pursing his lips and grasping Hermione's limp hand, he stepped in. And saw over a thousand pairs of eyes staring back at him.

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Author's Note: Okay, I'll be gone from Friday to Sunday (summer vacation) so I won't be able to post much. I'll post two extra chapters once I'm back. Again, thanks for reading, and thanks to the nice reviewers :)

~Cat Seeker~ XD


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Excuse me, sons and daughters of Hogwarts," Headmaster Dippet began wearily, as though he had said this statement so many times that it was just a reflex, "I have an announcement that I am sure all of you will want to listen to." A surprised look graced his wrinkled face, and a few eyes widened at the staff table. All the students were completely silent, eyes riveted to the diminutive forms of Mimosa Grant – Hermione Granger – and Harry Peterson – who was truly Harry Potter. "For the first time in many, many years, we have transfer students," Dippet continued, willing to make the most of the ambiguous quiet. "Children, I now introduce you to Ms. Mimosa Grant and Mr. Harry Peterson!"

There were a few scattered claps, several wolf whistles, and an outbreak of giggles. Harry didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one.

"Now, we shall Sort them," Dippet harrumphed at the lack of enthusiasm. The students really didn't know what to make of the new students. Were they competition or potential new friends?

"Professor Dumbledore, will you please bring out the Sorting Hat," the Headmaster infused a sort of wounded dignity in his voice and the Hat was immediately carried out and set on a wooden stool.

"Do you think that Hat is going to sing again?" asked a second-year Ravenclaw. "It is the second day; do you think it will have had time to create a new Sorting Song?"

"I really want to study the properties of the Hat," Hermione whispered to Harry with great vigor. "It's strange that I never saw any books about it in the Hogwarts Library itself. Maybe Flourish and Blotts would be a better bet..."

Harry had stopped listening after the word "Library." It was just so typical of Hermione to try to turn a trip to the past into a research project.

Then, the hat opened its brim, and to the astonishment of the other children, burst into song...

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts_

_First created to be a refuge, a haven, not a school for friends_

_Now, Gryffindors and Slytherins, to unite, they must start_

_Along with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, to achieve common ends_

_Gryffindor, the magnificent house of lions_

_Crimson and gold, for the brave, mighty, and chivalrous_

_But not this entire noble house personifies Godric's beliefs_

_One must wonder, to be Gryffindor, must you be courageous?_

_Ravenclaw, the smart and knowledgeable, for bronze and blue_

_Intelligent, but criticizing_

_Obsessive, but patronizing_

_Brilliant perfectionists, looking at the bigger picture, quite true_

_Slytherin, house of the sly, calculating, and ambitious_

_Constantly clawing up others to reach positions of power_

_Slytherins have the potential to be tremendously vicious_

_But only a few take revenge, while the rest are not so sour_

_Hufflepuffs, constantly underestimated, those in yellow and black_

_Are the most loyal, hard-working students that Hogwarts can gather_

_When a friend is in danger, a Hufflepuff will always have his back_

_Though these Badgers are also leftovers, from the other houses, rather_

_Each Hogwarts House contains its own inner flaws_

_But they must learn to work together, or never work at all_

_Else this school of old shall crumble from within_

_The Sorting Hat has spoken, and now the Sorting shall begin!_

Rebellious murmurs once again broke out across the hall and several people pointed rudely at Hermione and Harry.

"See, I told ya, Diggory," a Hufflepuff said tactlessly. "I bet ya ten galleons these weirdoes are actually Germans in disguise."

"I don't think Dippet would let our enemies into Hogwarts, Aster," 'Diggory' replied.

"You actually think Dippet – "

"Grant, Mimosa," Deputy Headmaster Dumbledore called gravely.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, before hurrying forward and sitting carefully on the stool. It tipped from side to side – obviously, its legs hadn't been cut correctly – and the girl nearly shrieked. And then, a thin, reedy voice slid into her mind.

**_Another new student to sort... what are you doing here at this time of year, dearie? Oh, ho! From another _****time****_ I see... Hmmm, very interesting..._**

_You won't tell anyone, will you?_

**_Oh, of course not, child. Sorting Hat-Student confidentiality, you see. Hogwarts Charter Page 16, Paragraph 4._**

_What house will be the best for me?_

**_You aren't going to beg for Gryffindor this time? (amused) Why ever not?_**

_I mean, Gryffindor seems okay, but I really don't think I'm very brave. I might not make any friends there again, just because none of them value knowledge._

**_It looks as though Ravenclaw would be the best place for you, but your ambition to become a top student may land you in Slytherin..._**

_Please, no. I'm a muggleborn, and Slytherins – especially around this time – detest any one of my kind._

**_Unfortunate, that. You would have done well in Slytherin, had the discrimination lessened._**

_(choking noises) Don't put me there. Please._

**_...Your unwavering loyalty to Harry Potter could push you into Hufflepuff. Ah, what is this? Some love thrown into the mix?_**

_(blushing) Don't tell him._

**_I repeat – Sorting Hat-Student confidentiality. I couldn't tell dear Harry about your less than pure intentions even if I wanted to – which I don't. Everything is better with a little dash of romance added. But, ask yourself, do you think he has done enough to receive this blind devotion, and your love?_**

_He has many qualities that I admire._

**_Whatever you say, darling. And do remember to visit me soon, will you? RAVENCLAW!_**

Professor Dumbledore pulled the Hat off of Mimosa's head and smiled at her in encouragement. With a jolt, she realized that her tie had changed color from a uniform black to striped blue and bronze. Mimosa stumbled to the Ravenclaw table uncomfortably and perched on the edge nervously until a little second-year scooted up to her.

"Hey, Mimosa, my name is Gemma Walters, and I want you to know that it's a pleasure for you to be a part of our house," the red-headed girl said, smiling, and revealing a slightly-chipped tooth.

As Mimosa's eyes danced across Gemma's freckled cheeks, dimpled cheeks, and bright blue eyes, the corners of her lips twitched into a smile, too.

"You're worried about Peterson, aren't you?" Gemma asked, nodding at the trembling Harry. "I just want you to know that I hope he's in our house..."

The earnestness on Gemma's face and her placid calmness reminded Hermione inexplicably of another third-year outcast in another time, in another house. And, lost as she was in her thoughts, she almost didn't hear Dumbledore call "Peterson, Harry!"

Harry was afraid. Hermione was in Ravenclaw, and he knew that his bravery could land him in a different house – namely Gryffindor. What if Hermione – never mind. He sat down on the stool slowly, dreading the inevitable intrusion of his most private thoughts by said intruder – the Sorting Hat. It wasn't long before the brim of the Hat obscured his sight and a familiar wispy voice penetrated his chaotic thoughts.

**_Hello, Mr. Potter. I have – or will – Sort you eventually._**

_How do you – _

**_Ms. Granger, my dear boy. I daresay most of her memories are of you... (chuckles)_**

_She's my best friend. Which house will you put me into? Personally, I'm favoring Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, to be – _

**_With the Granger girl. Ah, I see... Intriguing. (chuckles increase to full blown laughter) So you love her then..._**

_I do._

**_Foolish child, you know nothing of love. Love is more than the little-boy crush you have on the girl at the moment. But I am not here to argue or waste time._**

_How dare – _

**_Hmmm. I was right when I told you before – or when I will tell you later – that you will do well in Slytherin. You possess the ambition, the drive, the hate, the anger, and can potentially become manipulative enough to brave the House of Snakes._**

_If I'm brave, why can't I be a Gryffindor?_

**_There are many different kinds of bravery..._**

_Wait a moment!_

**_And you have in great amounts the one that will sustain you in SLYTHERIN!_**

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Author's Note: Ended with a cliffhanger. I wonder how Tom's going to react if/when he finds out that Harry and Hermione are time travelers. Oh well. Hope you like.

*smirks* The song is all mine, though.

And by the way, please read and review!

~Cat Seeker~ XD


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